


Now what?

by Mixk



Category: Smallville
Genre: First Time, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-24
Updated: 2012-11-24
Packaged: 2017-11-19 10:42:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/572396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mixk/pseuds/Mixk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Green Arrow finds himself in a bad situation, and Clark saves the day. The aftermath brings out an unexpected development in their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now what?

**Author's Note:**

> So I did it, I wrote some Clollie. It’s been a while, but I still love this pairing. My first love. Comments are always appreciated ! :)

“Put me down, Clark,” Oliver hissed, fighting the urge to struggle his way out of Clark’s strong grip midair—he wasn’t suicidal, they were at least a hundred feet above the ground. He couldn’t have done much anyway, he had to admit, in the weakened state he was in. Not that it would’ve changed anything, had he been in perfect shape, what with Clark’s far superior strength. Clark didn’t even bother to reply, and it only added to Oliver’s building anger.

Before he knew it, his feet were on solid ground again, Clark’s warmth leaving his body. Taking a look of his surroundings, Oliver recognized the balcony of his bedroom.

”What the hell, Clark?” Oliver muttered, his voice strained. Every intake of breath brought out a searing pain at his side. The thugs he was dealing with had broken a few ribs, it seemed. _Bastards_. He was faced with a stern Clark, a bit taken aback by the scowl the latter was directing at him.

“I should be asking you that question,” Clark countered, clenching his jaw, arms folded across his chest. “What were you thinking, Oliver? You were clearly outnumbered, and those men would have stopped at nothing to silence you.”

“I had the situation—”

“Bullshit!” Clark raised his voice, stepping closer to him. Oliver had a hard time standing on his feet, but did his best to hide it. Now wasn’t the time to prove Clark right. He knew Clark was right, but that was the issue, here. Oliver clearly couldn’t do everything Clark could, limited by his own body and abilities. It got on his nerves more than anything, not being able to do his job worry free. That night had started so well, too. He’d planned everything, had known what he was up against. He’d planned to attack from a distance all along, and it had been easy enough at first, stopping the drug dealers that were taking delivery of a large cargo. But there were many more of them, and he’d been attacked from behind. Next thing he’d known, he’d been surrounded.

“You could’ve run, you could’ve gotten out of this mess, why did you keep fighting them?” Clark asked,

“I couldn’t, Clark,” Oliver admitted, the exhaustion getting to him, the pain from his many bruises and wounds flaring up. Clark’s gaze softened at his admission, arms dropping at his sides. Oliver’s voice caught in his throat, and he couldn’t say more even if he wanted to, and he liked to think Clark knew him well enough to understand. In the end, he was relieved Clark had come to save the day. In the heat of the moment, he’d been angry. At the situation, at those thugs, at himself. It was always easier to lash out at someone else. His jealousy of Clark’s invulnerability and myriads of powers made the latter an obvious target. Oliver regretted his many arguments with Clark, the latter never really deserved the crap Oliver gave him. He only hoped Clark understood just how grateful he actually was that Clark had showed up tonight to save his ass.

“I should get you to a hospital,” Clark said, coming to Oliver’s side, wrapping an arm around his waist. Oliver welcomed the support, and draped an arm over Clark’s shoulders, leaning his weight on the latter.

“I’m fine, Clark, nothing a first-aid kit can’t fix,” Oliver replied as they made their way inside. “There are other people who’d benefit from a doctor far more than I do.”

“I’m going to check you out, okay?” Clark warned him, letting him down on the bed gently. Oliver nodded, and let Clark use his x-ray vision.

“You’re lucky I came in time, you only have a couple broken ribs,” Clark heaved a sigh, and walked to Oliver’s bathroom to retrieve the medical kit.

“Yeah, lucky me,” Oliver scoffed, closing his eyes, the comfort of his bed nursing him to sleep. Oliver sat on the edge of his bed as Clark helped him out of his suit, caring to his wounds carefully, the silence in the room only broken by Oliver’s occasional cry of pain. The tension between them was palpable, and Oliver wondered how it came to be like this. This moment was so…intimate, even though there was nothing really special about it. Except for the fact that Oliver had opened himself up to Clark in a way he’d never done before. He’d admitted his vulnerability.

Clark was kneeling behind him on the bed, tending to the scratches on Oliver’s back—the last of the wounds his body wore—when he put the last band aid. Clark’s hands settled on Oliver’s hips, his forehead pressed against the nape of Oliver’s neck.

“Just call me when things go to shit next time, Oliver, all right? I can’t afford to worry about you all the time,” Clark mumbled, his arms snaking around Oliver’s waist into a warm and light embrace, Clark’s front pressed against his back gingerly. It was surprisingly comforting, and Oliver welcomed Clark’s touch, leaned into it. He hadn’t seen this coming, hadn’t expected things between to evolve this way. But it felt natural, and Oliver didn’t even second guess this newfound intimacy with Clark.

“Never knew you cared that much about me,” Oliver said, placing his hands over Clark’s, his thumbs brushing over the rough skin.

“Now you do,” Clark replied, and they remained like this, Clark hugging him from behind on the bed, for what seemed like an eternity. Oliver brought one of Clark’s hands up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to Clark’s palm.

“Now what?” Oliver whispered, craning his neck to meet Clark’s eyes.

“Now we rest,” Clark answered, and proceeded to lay them both down and under the covers, his words holding a promise for a lot more than what they seemed to mean. Oliver found he could live with that, resting his head on Clark’s broad chest, arm wrapped around the latter’s waist, and looked forward to find out where tomorrow might lead them.


End file.
